Harts Get Broken
by blopty
Summary: Incomplete, but I'm lost - if someone wants to finish it, be my guest! Sorry!
1. Chapter 1

_I plan to switch points of view once in a while. _

_Not necessarily every other chapter, but often enough so that you can get a good look into Zoe's mind, and then Wade's. _

_Reviews are welcomed. Hope you like it :-)_

_**Set after the season one finale!**_

_**Don't read if you haven't watched it.**_

* * *

I woke up to pale sunlight streaming through the ratty curtains, and a tan arm draped around my waist.

It all came back then. The night before. The thunderstorm, the goat in the barn, the wedding, or lack of, the sex, the confession. And now, the choice.

I wondered – silently of course – how long I could keep this up. I needed to decide, but that would make for a bad day, and with Wade's slow breathing and bare skin beside me, I couldn't bear to ruin the day just yet. Or at all. Call me selfish.

When I finally rolled over, inching my way out of Wade's grip, I got my first glance at the clock.

"Dammit!" I yelped, pushing myself out of bed, his arm flinging out around me.

Wade's eyes shot open like I'd screamed bloody murder. "What?" He spat, propping himself up on one elbow.

I could tell he'd sat up too fast, and was still half asleep. His eyes were cloudy and he looked tired. We'd stayed up pretty late, but I was well rested after three hours of sleep let alone seven.

"It's ten!" I hissed, not meaning to sound quite as unpleasant as I did. "I'm late. I'm late. I'm late."

He grinned. I could tell a sarcastic remark was on the tip of his tongue. "I hate to break it to you Doc, but maybe your little medical school wasn't as thorough as you thought. Girls can't exactly call it late hours after you've had sex." He thought for a moment. I hadn't put it together just yet, until he mumbled the last part. "Plus, I'm positive it's not your time of the month."

"You're disgusting." I said, suddenly aware of how little I was wearing as I was reminded how much of a pig Wade could be.

I nearly sprinted to the bathroom, hauling a shirt and skirt on mid stride before pulling a comb through my hair and applying a not-so-neat coat of mascara. When I emerged from the bathroom, Wade was still in my bed. "What are you doing?"

He opened his eyes again. "I'm sleeping, what's it look like?"

"No, no you're not." I shook my head. "I'm over an hour late for work, and you have to drive me, as you're the reason I'm late."

His grin returned, curling up one side of his lips. "Want to be even later?"

"Not at all. Now take me to work!"

"Needy, needy, needy." He murmured, slowly getting out of bed. I stood and watched as he pulled on his clothes, and shoved his feet into his shoes. "Well? You gonna stand there or are we headed to town?"

I snapped out of my daze and made a beeline for the sole vehicle left on the plantation.

* * *

The office was bare, which surprised me, until Wade's voice rumbled behind me. "Doc, why is there no one here? Even Breeland is gone."

"What day is it?" I gulped, knowing this was going to bring on a whole new round of clever insults thrown my way.

"Sunday, why?" I could almost hear the gears clicking in his head. "Oh, no. Now, Doc, you're telling me, you got me out of your nice comfy bed for this?" He threw his hands up. "Really?"

"Oops." I forced a smile.

"I might as well head to the Rammer Jammer." He rolled his eyes, spinning around to head back outside. "You comin' or what?"

"Wait, do you have to work?" I asked, realizing that I wasn't the only one with commitments.

"Nah, I planned on having a hangover from the wedding. Took the day off."

"Charming." I said, as we made our way back to the car, "You know, maybe I'll walk."

If I didn't know better, I'd say that the look on Wade's face as he whipped his head around was nothing but pain. Like, I'd punched him in the gut. Or worse, considering my punch wouldn't do much to his muscles. Which were entirely exposed last night. On my bed, and floor, and... _get it together, Zoe._

"Uh, oh. Alright." He nodded, his face wiping clean of all emotion. "You sure?"

I just nodded and watched as he got back into the car. Again, I was being selfish, which seemed common these days, but I wasn't ready to hit the town and hear what everyone was saying about the wedding that didn't happen.

So I sat. As soon as Wade's bumper was out of sight, I dropped. The steps were cold, still mildly damp even with the sun beating down and drying up the town.

I let my mind, and eyes wander. As my eyes flicked from plants, to tar, to children in the distance, I couldn't focus on the present. Only the past. Last night specifically.

It had felt so right. Both parts – Wade, and George too. But both felt wrong in a sense. Maybe it was the terrible timing. Maybe it was the fact that I felt like a total tramp as soon as George left. I mean, I allowed him to _kiss_ me. After I'd slept with his friend! What kind of person does that? And not only that, but then doesn't tell Wade? And just lets him stay over, his arms wrapped around me like we were some sort of...couple.

No, no, you know what? I didn't kiss George back. Not really. So that counts for something, right?

_Ugh._ If Lemon hated me two days ago, she _really_ hated me now. But, there was nothing I could have done, right? I couldn't have made George's decision for him. I wasn't the direct problem. Lemon was. Hell, Lavon had more to do with their breaking up than I did. I'd just need to keep that in mind.

I snapped out of it in time for two feet to plant themselves fiercely in my path. Uh-oh. I allowed my eyes to drift up, Brick's face filling my vision.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he just shook his head. "I gotta get by." He said quietly.

I moved out of his way, allowing him to take the stairs two at a time up to the practice. I waited silently for him to return, expecting the worst. But when he finally did reappear, he plopped down beside me holding a stack of paperwork. "You know, Zoe," he began, "It's not your fault."

I looked at him in disbelief. Why wasn't he screaming at me? Telling me I'm a home-wrecking whore and that I need to get on a bus back to New York immediately? "Wha-"

He cut me off, I couldn't even get the word out. "It's Lemon and George's business." He continued. "Even if you weren't here, she still would have made a mistake, and he would have found someone else to return that mistake with."

_Wow, Brick, thanks! I feel so special_, I felt like snapping at him, but I kept it to myself, as he went on.

"Everyone's gonna blame you, at first at least." His voice was somber, his facial expressions matching it. "Don't let it run you out of town. You're a good doctor, as much as I hate to admit, George was right." He smiled at me, but just slightly. I was beyond confused. "You're useful to have, worth keeping around." His face fell then, turning serious. The smile missing. "But while you're used to being exiled," He patted my shoulder. "It's gonna be more extreme this time."

I waited until he'd stood up before I spoke. "So why are you being nice to me?" I asked. "I mean, you're the father of the bride left at the alter, you have no reason to be nice to me."

He let out a deep breath. "Because, Dr. Hart, I've spent too much time hating you. No need to revert back to old ways now that we've finally come to be friends."

I allowed myself to smile, but only briefly. "Friends." I repeated. "Thank you, Brick."

"I'll see you around." He turned to leave, but hesitated. "And don't tell Lemon about this, you hear?"

"I don't think that's something you have to worry about."

He nodded, his face still solemn as he turned and walked away, papers in one hand, his cell phone in the other. I heard it ring as he made his way down the sidewalk, and my heart dropped at his words. "Lemon Meringue, I'm on my way home." I heard him say. "Yes, yes, I'll pick some up. Put your sister on the phone."

He never looked back, not that I really expected him to.


	2. Chapter 2

I sat for a while after Brick left, still unable to face the drama. It took another hour before I walked myself home and locked the door to my dinky little house.

The first and possibly only thing that I noticed when I walked inside was Wade's phone sitting on the table beside my bed. I flopped down, taking it in my hands and running my a finger along the edges. Why? I don't know, it was just the only comfort I had. The only part of Wade left there with me.

Which probably should have told me something, but the vibrating cut my thoughts. More importantly, the name appearing on the screen. _George Tucker._

I froze, instantly unsure of what to do. I almost chucked the device across the room but decided that would rouse more issues in my life – which I didn't need.

So instead, I gather every bit of courage I had, and hit _talk._

"Hi."

"Hey – wait, Zoe?" He sounded more confused than I'd been expecting.

"Um, yup." A lump rose in my throat.

"Uh.. where's Wade?"

I took a deep breath. "He's at the Rammer Jammer, I think." I tried to stay as calm as possible. "He left his phone here." Oh shit. Here it comes.

"Oh?"

"Uh, yeah, he um, came over last night raving cause I blew the fuse box again." I was shaking. Apparently, I brush up on my lying skills. "I got this new coffee maker, it make delicious coffee but blows the fuse and..." I drifted off, deciding it wasn't worth my breath.

"Okay, cool. Well, listen, are you free tonight? I'd like to talk to you." He said, before adding, "In person."

Nervously, I shifted the phone to my left ear. "Um, don't you think that's a bad idea? I mean, people probably aren't too pleased with the whole wedding mishap, shouldn't you wait a while before taking another girl out?"

"No, no, I understand that. I meant, somewhere private, maybe your place?" He asked. "Or mine."

I gulped. "Yeah, okay. Sure. Mine?"

"Alright, is seven okay?"

"Yeah, seven is fine." I said before we exchanged goodbyes and the line went dead.

What was I thinking? Seven was not alright! Wade might be home, or worse – Lavon, the king of judgment even though he claims not to be.

I was in for a rough night, to say the least.

I sat on the stoop, my heart racing to the point where I was moderately concerned for my own health. Until Wade parked his car beside my house, rather than his. Then I was certain I was going to have a heart attack and probably die.

"Whatcha doin' out here, Doc?" He asked, making his way over to me.

Images of the night before flashed through my head. "Uh, George wanted to meet me tonight, so I'm waiting."

His face fell, but I wasn't about to lie to him any more than necessary. "Oh, well, ah, I forgot my phone this mornin'. You got it?"

I'd forgotten about the phone for quite some time. It was almost seven, and my mind was entirely on getting Wade out of my house. "Yeah, it's inside, hold on."

I walked inside, hoping Wade would stay out, but he showed himself in, the door creaking as he yanked it open and let it slam behind him.

I scurried around trying to find his phone. A few minutes later, after tearing the house apart I found it. I composed myself, even though he was standing a few feet away, just watching me. I forced a smile and dropped the device in his palm, where he let our fingertips linger a tad too long, because the knock on the door could have easily triggered a stroke. I felt my stomach sink.

George and Wade were about to be in the same room. My room.

"Uh, come in." I mumbled.

Sure enough, George waltzed through the doorway, much more carefully and gracefully than Wade had done minutes earlier. He was also much cleaner than Wade, his suit tailored perfectly in contrast to Wade's greasy t-shirt and dirty jeans.

"Wade." George nodded, apparently not finding it the least bit weird that Wade was conveniently at my house.

"Tucker." He returned the nod. "I'll ah, get out of your hair." He looked at me, pain obvious in his eyes. "See you later, Zoe."

I froze for a moment. Zoe? I was supposed to be Doc, or anything other than my actual name.

Our little rendezvous was supposed to be simple. No commitment. I shouldn't have to feel bad about it. But the increased festering in my gut told me otherwise. My stomach was in shambles. I tried desperately to pull myself together to form words, to say goodbye to Wade but I couldn't. So, I just nodded and strained a fake smile, like I was so used to doing.

I knew George could tell there was something different. It wouldn't have been obvious if I could have kept myself calm, but I couldn't. Obviously, it had showed on my face. Something I urgently needed to work on.

"So," George began, moving closer to me. His hand brushed my forearm, and then traveled up to my shoulder, sending chills down my spine. "How was your day?"

"Um." I mumbled. "Fine, slow. Yours?"

"Surprisingly..." He searched for the words. "Uneventful."

"Really?" That was definitely surprising. "I expected the complete opposite, you know, the day after you call off the wedding of the year."

I didn't mean to bring it up, it just happened. Deep down, I wondered if he'd regretted his decision.

His face fell for a moment, seemingly unsure about how to take my words. "I expected worse." He said, finally. "I've actually hardly heard anything. I mean, besides the occasional sneers or whispers. But there's clearly sides, now. And the Belles and Lemon's friends weren't exactly a part of my everyday life anyway. Most of the town folk don't seem to mind, hell, they're even chipper today."

So the Tucker-Breeland wedding fallout wasn't that big of a deal? Hard to believe.

"Oh, well then. What exactly was it you wanted to talk about?" I changed the subject, hoping he'd get on with it, and leave, so I could explain to Wade, as I was sure I needed to.

He dropped his hands to my waist, and gradually pulled me closer until I could smell the faint cologne, and the aroma of his soap. I made a mental note of the extreme contrast between George's clean smell, vs. Wade's earthy scent.

I didn't pull back. I knew I should. In fact, I was certain I should just spit it out. Lay it all out for him to decipher. Decide if I'm still worth his time after what happened. But I refrained. Now was not the time.

"What I wanted to ask, was, would you, Zoe Hart, allow me to take you out?" He was smiling, that beautiful, perfect smile. But, I caught myself mid-swoon.

"Like a real date?" I asked uneasily. "In public?"

"In Mobile." He said. "Nobody has to know, or see. We've managed it before."

He was right, we had, but that night at the movie theater was different. He was with Lemon then. He wasn't the talk of the town. Even if he claimed he wasn't, I still refused to believe that there was no conversation about the wedding.

But of course, his smile won over at that point, and I nodded, agreeing to a single date in Mobile. And then, I found myself waiting as he dipped his head down to my level and pressed his lips against mine.

But this time, I kissed him back, even when I knew it was wrong and deceitful, I still did it. Because even if Wade and I had something, George and I did too. The choice however, was which one lit the fire that I was so desperately seeking, and which one only warmed the coals?

* * *

_So, I'm completely aware that this chapter wasn't in favor of Wade and Zoe._

_But, I had to acknowledge her overbearing love for George. Just bear with me c:_


	3. Chapter 3

Wade's house was dark by the time George left, but that didn't stop me from visiting. I snatched a flashlight and walked over to his porch, carefully looking for Burt Reynolds on my way. When I reached the entryway, I very loudly and obnoxiously pounded on the front door like I had that first night in Bluebell.

I was on a mission. I was going to be strong, and tell Wade the truth. Then, I'd tell George, which I didn't think would be nearly as difficult. I knew that didn't make sense, as I'd slept with Wade, and only kissed George, but still. I felt Wade would have a stronger reaction.

He didn't answer, but I decided there was no way he was asleep. It wasn't even 9:00. He was awake and ignoring me.

I pushed open the door and let myself in. He would have locked it, I assumed, if he was indeed asleep.

The house was quiet and pitch black, no guitar sounds, no radio, not even a nightlight to light your path. Faintly, I could hear the low voices on the television coming from his room. I ditched my slippers at the door, not wanting to be even ruder than I already had been, and made my way through the house and to his bedroom, bumping into a handful of things on my way.

"What are you doing here, Doc?" He asked, lifting his head off of the pillow as I appeared in the doorway.

He was sprawled out, shirtless, on his bed. The lights off, the glow of the TV the only thing illuminating the place. Apparently, it was bright enough for him to see that it was me and not some crazy stalker or whore looking for a booty call.

I shuddered at the thought. "I want to talk to you." I sighed, closing the distance between us and sitting at the end of his bed.

"I thought you and Golden Boy were goin' on makin' new little lawyers and doctors over there."

_Don't hold back, Wade._ I thought. I wanted to be mad at the comment, but I couldn't seem to. More than anything, it hurt. It didn't make me angry, it made me sad.

"Not quite." I mumbled. _Now or never, Zoe. Just get on with it._ "I um, agreed to a date. With George."

"Cute." Wade spat, twisting his neck around to see the TV behind me.

I sat in silence, not sure what to say or whether or not I should elaborate. I decided not to a moment later, so I stood up, ready to head home.

Wade's voice stopped me. "Zoe," he said, his tone tired.

I turned to face him, the TV casting shadows on his face. "Wade." I mimicked his tone.

"You still want him, don't ya?" He propped himself up on his own bed, like he had on mine just that morning.

"I don't know what I want right now." I admitted. It felt good to get it off my chest, but the feeling quickly disappeared as I watched Wade's expression.

I decided that if I was going to tell him everything, it should be right then. Although I had one question for him, before I answered anymore myself. "What was it?" I asked.

"What was what, Doc?" He leaned over and pulled the string on his lamp, light flooding the room.

I could see every muscle in his chest all over again, and I came to the conclusion that it was much easier talking to him without that distraction. I felt like a thirteen year old around Wade. I was no better around him than Rose around Fredrick Dean.

"Last night. What was it?" I asked again.

He sat up, appearing to think it through, but the confused look on his face told me otherwise. "I don't get what you're askin'."

I turned my body to face him entirely. I had to come right out and say it. It was bound to be more painful for me than anything, so I blurted it out. The words came jumbled and almost slurred. "Did it mean anything?" I asked quickly. "I mean, do I? Or am I just another one? Another conquest?"

I couldn't properly encode his expression, but if I were to guess it would have been shock. Not what I expected.

"You come over here to tell me that you've set yourself up on a date with Tucker, and now you're asking if _you_ mean anything to _me_?" It was like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

I stood, watching, while he tossed his feet over the side of the bed and took three strides, closing the distance between us almost to it's entirety. "I've watched you pine over Golden Boy for months, 'n now you're concerned about how I feel about you? Why, Doc? Tell me." He snapped. "Because it sure as hell ain't because you care, or is it? I'd love to hear it, Zoe. Why don't you answer the question?" He was pissed. I'd hit a nerve. "Why do you seem to care about how I feel all of a sudden?"

"B-because, I-" I began, but it faded into a stutter. I sounded like a three year old, but Wade's proximity and the given situation were making things worse. My heart was pounding. I didn't know what to say. No, I knew what to say, I just didn't know how to say it. "I... I-"

"If you can't say it, then neither can I." He was practically hissing in my ear at that point.

He knew exactly what I wanted him to say. But apparently it went both ways, and to be frank, I didn't have the courage to say it right then, so instead, I swallowed hard and held back the rare, but hot tears I felt brewing.

I turned around, ready to make a break for it as they started to fall. I wasn't entirely sure why I was crying. Maybe it was the guilt, for both George and Wade, or the feelings I held bottled up, unwilling to admit to them, or maybe it was the fact that all I needed was for him to say it, to give me a reason to cancel that date with George and live happily ever after with a bartender. But he didn't, he refused to say anything, so I let the tears fall. One by one, they dripped down my cheeks, and I bolted.

I had barely reached the doorway to his bedroom when I felt his hand hook my elbow, pulling me closer to him. He didn't talk, he just wrapped his arms around me, cradling me to his chest. No matter how badly I thought I wanted to shake him off and run home and pretend I'd never cried in front of him, I couldn't. He had me locked in his grasp, so I pressed my face to his bare skin trying to slow my strained breathing.

I felt him press his lips to my hair. "I didn't mean to..." He whispered, but even he didn't know what to say at that point. He probably wasn't even certain why I'd broken down in front of him. If he'd known what was going on in my twisted brain, then it would have made sense, but I figured to an onlooker or even someone that knew me as well as Wade couldn't have possibly figured it out.

He let me cry for a few minutes until my breaths and heartbeat slowed to a normal pace. I inched myself away from him, refusing to look him in the eye at first. Until his hands moved from my back to my face, pulling my chin up to him.

I knew my eyes were puffy and red, and I had tear stains on my skin but I could tell he didn't care. I avoided his gaze even when he pulled my face up to his, being careful not to upset me further, his touch was gentle and cautious.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, pulling away from him. I was not going to allow myself to kiss him, no matter how badly I wanted to. I couldn't kiss George and then a half hour later kiss Wade. It wasn't like me, and I'd be damned if I started doing things differently. My methods worked until now, I didn't get hurt, I didn't hurt anyone else – relationship wise – and I didn't want to start. Even though I was almost positive I'd hurt Wade one way or another today.

He dropped his hands as I pulled away, and contributed to the space between us, totaling a good two feet. "I just-" He let out a long sigh. "I don't get it, Zoe."

I shook my head, "I'm sorry." I repeated before turning away. "I sorry, Wade."

I felt the tears again, stinging the back of my eyes as I fought to hold them in. I moved away again, but this time there was no calloused hand hooking my elbow to stop me. He let me go. I made my way back through his house, grabbing my flashlight and slippers by the door before jogging barefoot across the grass between our abodes, and stepping back into my dimly lit home. I dropped my things immediately inside and slammed the door shut, twisting the lock violently before trudging across the floor and dropping down onto my bed. I pulled the blankets up over my shoulders and allowed my mind to fill with regret and my eyes to fill with tears. Regret for crying in front of Wade, or for crying now. Regret for the reasons behind the tears. Regret for not telling him how I felt when I had the chance. Regret for agreeing to a date with George Tucker, when I knew damn well that it was going to make trouble for myself, for George, for Wade, and definitely for Lemon.

* * *

_Thank you all so much for the reviews! _

_Another chapter coming soon :)_


	4. Chapter 4

**Wade**

I had no idea what happened as I watched Zoe book it across the land between her house and mine. I had no idea why she started cryin', aside from the fact that I'd been a royal ass hole whether I meant it that way or not. Apparently the girl was a tad more sensitive than I'd thought.

But now she was upset, and I was insulted. I'd bent my head, my lips inches from hers and she'd denied me. Denied me! Her little games were startin' to piss me off. She wanted Tucker one minute then the next she was crawlin' over to me. Sure, it'd only been a day since she'd been bouncin' back and forth, but even that was too much.

She needed to make up her mind. Pick, me or him. Golden Boy lawyer or bartender. Not much of a competition there, huh?

I pried myself away from the window, and headed back to bed, determined that tomorrow would be a better day.

But I never got to sleep. I tossed and turned all night, replaying the scenario in my head dozens of times until finally I just got up, got dressed and headed to work nearly two hours early, not something I did often.

I unlocked the doors to the Rammer Jammer and headed for the bar. I started to brew myself some coffee, God knows I'd need it. As soon as the coffee was done, I poured a mug and gulped. I could have turned the TV on, or at least the radio, but I didn't. I just sat, drinking the scorching coffee and over thinkin' everything I could have done differently.

An hour passed, I'd downed two and a half cups of coffee and I decided it was late enough to open up the restaurant.

It was a busy day, and I expected the Doc to turn up with a scowl sayin' she needed coffee now, a drink later. But she didn't. Breakfast; no Zoe. Lunch; no Zoe. Dinner; no Zoe.

When 5:00 hit, I was more than ready to go home. I'd talked to no one interesting. Mainly, my conversations for the day revolved around takin' orders, or talkin' to Shelley about food. Which were mostly one sided conversations. Customers tell me what they want, I serve it, or Shelley blabbers about boring stuff, I ignore it.

But at 5:00 the bell on the door chimed, and in walked Mr. Tucker himself. Not who I wanted to see at that point.

Of course he was oblivious to that, and walked himself right on over to me and dropped down onto a bar stool.

"Wade." He nodded, picking up a menu like he didn't already know exactly what was on it.

"George." I forced myself to pretend I didn't want to clock him.

He stopped readin', and picked his head up, checkin' around to see how many people were in the place. Clearly, he was concerned about the aftermath of the wedding and how it affected the townsfolk.

I admit, this was a weak point of mine, but I couldn't help it. "So, you're takin' the Doc out, ah?"

His head shot up, his face twisted. I couldn't help but appreciate the fact that right then he wasn't very nice to look at.

"What?" He cleared his throat. "Wait, she told you?"

I put down the rag in my hands and braced myself against the counter. "Uh, yeah." I paused. "Was she not supposed to?"

"Um, no. She wasn't. We agreed to keep it quiet so it doesn't stir the pot." He thought carefully, before running his hand up to his hair. "Why would she tell you, of all people?" He asked, then quickly added a, "No offense, you two just fight constantly."

I know I shouldn't have been, seeing the Doc's track record, but I was surprised. He didn't know. George Tucker had no idea what was goin' on with his little girlfriend and I. However, I guess I didn't really know what was goin' on between us at that point either. Well, if anything at all was. As much as Zoe talked, she had a hell of a time findin' the right words.

I allowed myself to enjoy the moment a little longer, makin' him sweat before I said anythin'.

"She didn't tell you?" I asked, my astonishment playing onto my face.

He looked shocked. "Tell me what?"

"Oh, no, no, no." I shook my head, picking up the rag again and turning to get to work on some more glasses. "I'm not getting' myself in trouble."

I kept my back to him, but I could definitely tell he wasn't feelin' too hot right then. However, I figured I'd done right by not outing the Doc. She would have been pissed if I'd told him she slept with me the night he canceled his weddin' and as much as I wanted the girl, I didn't want to truly hurt George. That was Zoe's job. She had to tell the truth eventually, why not sooner rather than later?

Plus, at least I could claim ignorance, because I truly wasn't aware that she was supposed to keep her little date a secret.

I knew I was being childish, but I didn't really care, because I'd won this round.

**Zoe**

It was dinnertime, and I was starving. I'd never realized how much I depended on the Rammer Jammer for food, and daily at that. It couldn't be healthy.

I hadn't eaten all day. I'd poured myself a cup of coffee this morning, desperately hoping I could get away with it without blowing a fuse.

My cup got about half way through before it shut down, and that was with the rest of the power in the house off. Lucky for me, I didn't hear a _Dammit, Zoe! _from next door, so I figured the coast was clear.

Now, it was past 5:30, and the only thing I'd had was that half cup of coffee that wasn't so spectacular, and three pieces of candy that I stole out of the jar on Addie's desk. The worst part? I was so hungry I didn't even sneak it. I had snagged the candy right in front of her.

Addie had given me that motherly stern look, "Zoe Hart," She said, "Go get yourself somethin' to eat."

But of course I'd ignored her and retreated to my patient-free office. Everyone had headed on over to Brick for the day, I assumed because they wanted to hear about Lemon's reaction, and avoid me – the home wrecker. I couldn't blame them. I was feeling pretty shitty about it myself, until Addie declared that it was all Lemon's fault and informed me that now everyone was talking about the mayor.

I couldn't help but feel relieved. Sure, I didn't want Lavon to take all of the heat when I deserved it too, but it was nice that nobody talked about me at that point. Even if it was because nobody cared.

I packed my things up, shoved my arms through the sleeves of my sweater and sped out the door. My day was done. I could finally go home, lock the door and pretend I didn't exist.

However as soon as my heels hit the gravel in front of the house I stopped dead in my tracks. There he was.

George sat with his head dropped, hands folded, on the rickety old steps in front of the door.

I stretched my fingers and took a deep breath before continuing towards him. _What did I do now?_

He lifted his head and smiled at me. He looked calm, but I could tell otherwise by the way he clenched his fists together.

He pushed up on his knees and stood, "So I talked to Wade."

There it was. I was in trouble. I pushed past him and into my house, leaving the door ajar so he could follow. "Oh yeah? When?" I asked, dropping my things onto the end of my bed, my shoes still on and clicking against the floorboards.

"About an hour ago." He said, shifting uncomfortably.

"And?" I was instantly insecure.

"And he seems to think that there's something you should tell me."

I sat down at the edge of my bed, pulling off my shoes and dropping them beside me. "As in?"

"Like why you told him about out date when we agreed to keep it a secret." He sighed. "You were the one that stressed that, Zoe. You were the one that wanted nobody to know, so why tell Wade Kinsella, of all people?"

I felt my stomach twist as George sneered Wade's name. "Um." I didn't know where to begin.

I waited for George to cut me off like Wade was famous for doing, but he didn't. He sat, patiently and silently, awaiting my answer.

"Because." I managed.

"Because why?" He countered.

I felt the words rising in my throat. I knew I was going to end up blowing it but I believed that it would take more than a few days to do so. As usual, I just needed to come out with it. Spill. Confess. Now.

"I slept with him." I mumbled, dropping my head. There, it was all out.

I awaited some screaming, or at least a hostile tone but it never came. I looked up at him. He was sitting now across the room.

When his eyes met mine he finally spoke. "You slept with him."

It wasn't a question, but I felt like I should respond anyway. "Yes." I nodded.

"When?"

"Before you showed up at my doorstep a few nights ago." I whispered. "I thought you were, you know, getting married. Unattainable. Gone."

Now I wanted to slap myself. Those words were only partially true. I hadn't just slept with Wade because I was upset that George was getting married. I'd slept with Wade because I'd wanted to. He was right, there was something there. Something that we had to explore. Something we had to figure out no matter what the consequences, and that was probably the one thing I'd done recently that I didn't regret.

"I'm gonna just.." He trailed off, standing up again and heading for the door.

I stood up, "George, wait."

He stopped walking and turned around. I didn't go closer, I didn't dare. "So that's it?" I asked, not sure what I wanted his answer to be. A yes would decide everything for me. Make life that much easier. But, a no wouldn't hurt. A no would mean that whatever George and I had, like whatever Wade and I had, could have a chance. A trial run at the very least.

"That seems like more of a decision for you to make, not me." He paused, his eyes locking with mine. "I love you, Zoe Hart. But can you say the same?"

I opened my mouth to answer, even though I wasn't sure what I would say. He didn't give me a chance, anyway, which I was silently thankful for. Instead, he turned and left. Just like that.

_George loves me._ I thought. But, after all this time I should be jumping for joy, running after him, anything other than standing in the middle of my bedroom thinking about someone else.

* * *

_There, the majority of the secrets are out._

_Let me know what you think, and thank you for the reviews c:_


	5. Chapter 5

Confrontations aren't my strong suit, which is why for the next few days I avoided both George and Wade, desperately trying to sort my feelings without adding to the multitude of rumors circling the town.

By now, most people were sure George hadn't just gotten cold feet. If that was the case, he'd be seen around town with Lemon, or at least would have explained himself.

But even though nobody knew that he'd shown up at my door the night of the wedding (not even Wade.. still, I wasn't sure I wanted to tell him) it was obvious he was set in his decision, and nobody expected there to be a Breeland-Tucker wedding.

When Friday rolled around I knew I had to talk to George. We'd agreed to meet to discuss our upcoming (or, nonexistent – I wasn't sure) date.

However, he'd said _it wasn't his call to make, _whether or not we were together. And in a way I knew he was right. It was my call. I had to take charge one way or another.

I had the weekend off, which for me was almost too much free time. Especially in Bluebell, Alabama. In New York, I'd go shopping, lounge at an upscale spa or spend my time doing anything other than clamber down a dirt driveway in heels, headed straight for a dive bar.

But here I was, the Rammer Jammer. Not exactly the ideal place to meet George, as Wade was probably working, but in Bluebell, what choice did I really have? It wasn't like New York City. I couldn't just pick a tiny unknown cafe and be sure I wouldn't cause trouble. In New York few people knew me by name. I couldn't cause trouble just by setting foot in a restaurant. In Bluebell, on the other hand, it was a good day when there were no whispers.

The bell chimed as I cautiously cracked the door open and slid in, willing myself to be invisible. But of course I didn't get my wish. Heads snapped in my direction and I quietly, and rather sheepishly slid into a bar stool at the very end.

Wade slid a glass across the counter to an old man before heading my way. "What'll it be, Doc?" He asked.

He sounded tired. He looked tired. "No offense, but you look rough." I blurted. "How long has it been since you've slept?"

His expression changed entirely at my words. He pondered the question for a moment, and shook his head. "Dunno. Few days prob'ly."

I didn't want to pry, and ask why he hadn't been sleeping. God knows it could be anything from bugs to frogs down here. I longed for the steady sounds of traffic lulling me to sleep in the city.

Wade just kept looking at me. "You gonna order or what?"

"Uh," I fumbled for words, suddenly feeling awkward. "Not yet. I'm um, waiting for... someone."

"Tucker?" He pressed.

_Damn it, Zoe, why agree to a meeting, at the Rammer Jammer? _

I tried to make it sound as innocent as possible, even though no matter what I said would sound better than "Yeah, well he told me he loves me, so I've agreed to meet with him, you know, to let him know where we stand in my mind." No, that definitely wouldn't be a good idea. So I lied, kind of.

"Yeah, um, there's something we kind of need to work out." I sighed, tapping my fingers on the countertop.

"Right." He mumbled, before giving me a nod and walking back to his other customers.

Super. I've just alienated Wade, too.

The bell chimed again and my attention was directed toward the door, where George stood looking around briefly before heading my way.

"Hello, Zoe." He said, acting oddly casual.

"Hi." I forced a smile, but I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. The two men that I had feelings for were both withing arm's length, and I had to choose one – right now.

George sat beside me, allowing some space between us. "So," he began. "How are you?"

Small talk. Great, my favorite. "I'm fine, you?"

He just nodded, as to signal he was well. Silence fell, and I knew it was my turn to speak up. "Does the offer still stand?"

He looked surprised. "What offer?"

"Our date."

He smiled, "Of course. Even though it's no longer a secret." He looked over his shoulder, where women and men alike whispered, not making an effort to divert their eyes from us. "Apparently, some folks overheard Wade and I." He clarified.

It just kept getting better. "Oh." I widened my eyes in mock surprise.

I could feel Wade's eyes on me, but when I lifted my gaze to meet his, he promptly redirected it.

"So," George said, chipper. "Tomorrow night?"

I looked back at Wade momentarily, but he wasn't paying attention anymore. So I faced the handsome man beside me and agreed. "Tomorrow night."

By the end of the night I was astonished to find that George hadn't even mentioned his _I love you_ speech. But to be honest I was thankful. That was one issue I was not ready to tackle just yet, because even though I'd agreed to the date, or in this case maybe even initiated it, I still wasn't sure if I could answer George's question.

_I love you, Zoe Hart, but can you say the same?_

It replayed in my mind time and time again, could I? Did I love George?

It didn't matter now, because George was dropping me off at home, where he opened the door and let me out in a gentlemanly manner and gave me a peck on the cheek before leaving.

I'd made my choice. I chose a date with George Tucker over the annoying bartender next door, but I couldn't help but rethink my decision.

Our date was fun. We ate dinner, saw a local band play, and talked – easy, civil conversation. But in the back of my mind I was wishing for a snide remark, an annoying comment that would lead to careless banter and the occasional insult. Something to spice things up a bit.

Whenever George dipped his head to meet my lips, I allowed a light peck, but nothing more. My guilt wasn't ceasing, if anything it was growing, and he could tell.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his lips by my ear as we moved outside to the quiet.

"Nothing." I protested, but he wasn't stupid.

"Right, seriously Zoe. What's wrong?" He trailed his fingers down my spine, sending a shiver up me.

"I don't know." That was the truth. I wasn't sure if this – being with George – felt right anymore. I wasn't sure of anything else for that matter, either.

"You don't want this, do you?" He asked, his voice low and hoarse from talking over the noise blaring inside.

"What? I.." I stopped. "I don't know what I want." That same, overused sentence escaped my lips.

"Oh." He let go of me. "So, what, is it Wade?"

I didn't say anything. I just thought about his words for a moment until I nodded. "Yeah." I said, not wanting to meet his eyes. "It is Wade."

Before he could respond, my phone was ringing. I pulled it out of my purse to check who it was. "It's Lavon." I stated, knowing I should answer. Lavon wouldn't call if it wasn't important, he knew where I was.

"Get it." George said, starting to walk away.

I watched as he made his way over to a bench before answering.

"Hello?"

"Zoe?" Lavon's voice was filled with anxiety.

"Yeah?" I asked, a lump rising in my throat.

"Wade was in an accident."


	6. Chapter 6

In a panic, I dragged George into Mobile hospital's emergency room, where we found Lavon.

"Where is he? Is he okay?" I said, pushing through a handful of people to get to Lavon, with George in tow.

Lavon stood up from where he was sitting, a bench outside of a half a dozen doors. "He's in an MRI right now," He explained. "They think he's got some sort of brain injury."

"What happened?" I whispered, positive that if I talked any louder my voice would break. I could feel tears welling behind my eyes, but I held them back.

"Car accident. Someone collided with him at an intersection just outside of here. Don't know what he was doin' near Mobile, but either way, he got hit. The doctors are sayin' brain injuries are common in side-impact accidents."

I nodded, fully aware of the damage car accidents can impose. "What about his ribs? Other organs? Is there any internal bleeding?"

"A few broken ribs, yeah." Lavon continued. "But they're sayin' his head took the worst of it." His voice was steady, but his eyes were empty and terror was apparent in his expressions. His best friend was in the hospital, possibly on his death bed, and he couldn't do anything for him.

George stood silently beside me, barely breathing. But when he reached out and rested a hand on my back I curled into him, letting the tears fall. I couldn't compose myself no matter how hard I tried. It was no use, so I let George pull me into him as I soaked his shirt with tears and mascara.

* * *

Two weeks, two days later, I was still in Mobile.

Brick had agreed to take over the practice entirely until I was er, _stable enough_ to go back to work, so I sat beside Wade's still body, running my fingers over his day in and day out.

The doctors didn't appreciate my medical advice, so I kept to myself after a while, but when they allowed it, I took an uncomfortable chair and sat beside Wade, apologizing for what I couldn't help.

He'd been in an induced coma for two weeks, but over the past few days the doctors had been weaning him off of his medication, confident he was well enough to wake up.

But nothing had happened, nothing had changed (beside the fact that I'd switched from sleeping in the waiting room to getting an actual motel room.)

George visited every few days, calling on the days he couldn't make an appearance, where Lavon came for an hour or so every night after his mayoral duties were taken care of. Unlike me, he couldn't just up and leave.

It was 8:00 AM when I made my first appearance of the day. The hospital staff greeted me, since I was now on a first-name basis with the majority of the nurses and doctors tending to him. After a few minutes, a tall figure appeared in the doorway to Wade's room.

Jesse Kinsella.

"Zoe?" He asked, moving toward me.

I stood up and turned to face him completely, but sticking close to Wade, although I was pretty sure he was dead asleep. "Didn't expect to see you here." I said, my tone more hostile than necessary.

"He's my brother." Jesse sighed. "Look, I know I should have come sooner, I just..."

His words trailed off, so I picked up where he left off for him. "You were just too much of a coward, because you guys don't have a rock solid relationship? He's not waking up, Jesse. He might never wake up." I could feel my cheeks burning, but decided that it wasn't the time or place to lecture Wade's brother about his sibling duties, especially seeing as I didn't have a sibling of my own.

Jesse stood silently, so I took that as an agreement. "I'll give you a minute." I sighed, leaving the room.

I wandered down the hallway, down a set of stairs to the cafeteria, got myself a coffee and returned to Wade's room all within five minutes.

I poked my head back into the room, Jesse sat with his brother's hand in his mumbling away about something I couldn't hear, so I retreated back to the waiting room to do just that – wait.

An hour later Jesse passed me, shot me a sad smile and left the building. I was free to return to Wade's side at that point, so that's just what I did.

I felt better now, Jesse had come finally, and Earl had already been there twice (thanks to Lavon.)

I settled into my uncomfortable chair by his side and flicked the TV on. Some old rock concert was playing on VH1 and as much as I could have done without it, I kept it on since I knew if Wade was awake – or could at least hear it – he'd appreciate it.

Instead of watching the television, though, I just listened and traced the scars on his hands gently. One by one, before flipping his chilly palm over.

His skin was warmer now than it had been, but still not a healthy temperature. I knew this was normal, but it scared me still.

I went on to trace the lines in his palm, slowly gliding down one pale crease and then another. When I finished the last of the lines, the gentle pressure on my own finger startled me. Surely I imagined it. But, just as I was about to take my hand away, Wade's fingers moved again. Very lightly and weakly, but moved, nonetheless. This time they wrapped around mine.

Being a doctor myself, I knew what I would have told the patient's friend or family. _"It's just a reflex." _

My heart jumped and sank in a matter of seconds after I realized this. It was just a reflex.

But then again, he clenched his fingers around mine. Stronger, this time. A real squeeze. Not a reflex.

I waited until midnight that night, desperately wishing he would just open his eyes for me. I knew it wouldn't be like it is in the movies, where the patient just wakes up and hops out of bed, good as new. I knew when he did open his eyes, he still wouldn't entirely be there. That would take even longer, but it would be a start. It would prove he would wake up.

Nothing happened. I got a few more squeezes, even one that the other doctors recognized as a response – not an involuntary movement. Even with that, when I left (or, when I basically got kicked out) for the night, I was happier than I'd been in a while.

That happiness grew the next morning, when right after the 7:00 AM shift change, I was allowed into his room.

At first I was stunned, frozen in place. As soon as I took everything in, I smiled. Wade's eyes were open. Hazy and dull, but open. He was propped up a bit, his ventilator out and a nurse was leaning over him, checking his IV's. What wonders seven hours could do.

I didn't say anything until the nurse came over to me. "How is his brain activity?"

She raised her eyebrows and consulted a chart, as she'd just gotten on duty, and I was sure the last time she'd seen him he was out cold.

"It looks good. The neurosurgeon did some tests last night, apparently. He's recovering well. He's definitely going to have a few lost memories as he did have rather extensive trauma, but he's responsive. He's going to be fine, Zoe." She squeezed my arm and smiled.

"Thank you." I breathed, moving away from her and toward Wade.

This time, when I sat beside him I didn't reach out and grab his hand. Instead, I just smiled, and looked at him, his cloudy eyes coming into focus.

To my surprise, he was the one that spoke first, his head shifting my way in an uncoordinated manner. "Hey, Doc." He whispered. His voice was rough and strained, but I'd never been happier to hear him speak.

I smiled, and fought back the rising tears. This time though, they weren't out of pain, so as two tiny tears escaped and slid down my cheek, I whispered back. "Hey, Cowboy."

He smiled weakly before wiggling his fingers at me.

I slid one hand into his, and cupped the other over my mouth, holding in the threatening sob. "I'm sorry." I whimpered, my voice breaking.

"What, you and Golden Boy?" He managed, his expression falling slightly.

I knew exactly what he was asking. I shook my head. "No." I swallowed back the last of the tears. "I'm not with George." A second later I backtracked. "Wait, you remember?" I asked excitedly.

He nodded, and winced.

I felt my heart drop at the movement, before I moved my hand from his light grip, and brought it up to his forehead. "Be careful."

He grinned, and clumsily caught my hand in his own as I brought it back down. "I 'member what's important."

"Like?" I asked.

"Like," He whispered, I could tell he was struggling, but I was sure that telling him it didn't matter, that he didn't have to answer, wouldn't help. He was too stubborn. So I let him continue. "Like, this constant annoyin' pressure on my hand." He smiled faintly. "But it seemed to go away at night."

I blushed, forgetting that some coma patients could register and remember things from when they were asleep. I guess I just assumed Wade wouldn't, since he'd had a brain injury. "They kicked me out a night." I explained.

He chuckled, but that soon erupted into a fit of coughing. In a matter of seconds I was on my feet, positioning him so the coughs would be less painful, his ribs were, however, still healing.

As soon as his coughs had subsided, I backed away again and sat down. "You're not allowed to laugh." I said, trying to make myself sound stern, but I sounded far more worried than anything.

Before he nodded, I snapped. "And don't nod either!"

He just smirked, and encased my hand in his again before eventually drifting off to sleep.


End file.
